New Year's Eve
by snoozie2105
Summary: JJ/Rossi. "What better night for a new beginning than New Year's Eve?”


Author's note: Unapologetic JJ/Rossi fluff for your New Year's reading pleasure! I love reviews. (Hint, hint.) I make no claims to Criminal Minds or its characters.

Jennifer Jareau's idea of an exciting New Year's Eve involved taking a long, hot bubble bath, shaving her legs and deep conditioning her hair, putting on her flannel pajamas, and curling up with her favorite old blanket, a pint of Ben & Jerry's Tennessee Mud and the remote. Which is what she had done as of nine twenty-seven, thinking as she arranged herself on her couch that this so-called all-important evening was much more fun spent at home than at any party.

David Rossi knew this. Not from JJ herself, but from Penelope Garcia and Emily Prentiss, her two closest friends. Which is why at nine-thirty he was ringing JJ's doorbell, waiting for her to let him in out of the ass-freezing cold. As he stood there, he wondered if he was crazy, or desperate, or both. Probably both.

When JJ heard the doorbell ring, she cursed under her breath and hesitated before throwing off her blanket and getting up. Either someone was pulling a prank or someone had the wrong house. She did not expect company nor did she want company, and the closer she got to the door, the more worked up she became – someone was going to get it. But when she looked through the peephole and saw Rossi standing on her porch, bundled up against the weather, she thought her heart would surely stop. This was worse than a prank.

"Jennifer!" she heard him call as he rang the doorbell again. "I know you're home! Open the door! It's cold! And it's starting to snow!"

There was no delaying the inevitable; it was either let him freeze to death, which would be difficult to explain to the authorities and their team, or let him in before old Mrs. Schultz across the street called the police. "David Rossi!" she exclaimed as she unlocked the door. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Happy New Year's Eve to you, too," he retorted he stepped inside and brushed the snow off his salt-and-pepper hair. "I was just in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop by." It was all he could do not to give himself away as he took her in. Obviously he'd interrupted a spa night. She looked precious, from her pale pink toenails to her shiny hair. And precious was not a word that he liked, and therefore did not use frequently or lightly, but there was no other word that would accurately describe her at that moment. "Blue is a good color for you."

_Oh, God, please, no. _She'd totally forgotten about the mask she'd just applied. Garcia said it was guaranteed to "wake up" her complexion. She lifted a hand to her face and felt it hardening up, then took a quick look at herself in the mirror hanging by the door. Who was she kidding? She was wearing her pajamas, had her hair in a messy ponytail and clutched a spoon in her hand, while the man she had spent untold minutes – no, _hours_ – daydreaming about stood in her foyer. It couldn't get more mortifying than this, but still, her reply was quick and sarcastic.

"Oh, thank you so much. You're too kind. Seriously, Rossi," she said as she narrowed her eyes at him, "why are you here, other than to cause me to die an early death of embarrassment?"

"I told you," he said slowly, patiently. "I was in the neighborhood and – "

"Uh-huh," she interrupted, her hands on her hips. "Sure. You brought case files, didn't you?"

He put a hand to his chest and widened his eyes. "Jennifer, you wound me. I didn't expect you to roll out the red carpet, but I didn't expect you to be so chilly, either. And to answer your question, no, I did not bring case files so we could spend New Year's Eve working." From within his coat he produced a bottle of champagne and two glasses. "We are going to celebrate," he told her firmly.

If the champagne was for a toast at midnight, she had her hands full for another two and a half hours at the very least, and she knew she wouldn't be able to get rid of him, even if she wanted to, until he decided he'd stayed long enough. There was no making that man do anything he didn't want to do before he was good and ready to do it. She couldn't decide if that quality infuriated her or turned her on. "Well, go on in and make yourself at home," she told him as she took his coat. "I've got to go make myself presentable."

As she turned for the stairs, he yelled after her, "Leave the pajamas on. I like them!"

~*~

Meanwhile, at a bar across town, Penelope Garcia and Emily Prentiss were toasting each other with vodka gimlets. They had just thrown two of their colleagues – two colleagues who were so very stubborn but still so deserving and so desperately in need of love and happiness – into each other's arms, and they were very proud of themselves.

"Wouldn't you give a million dollars just to see the look on our sweet, darling JJ's face when she realizes Agent Tall, Dark and Handsome wants to come in?" Garcia laughed.

"Make that five million," Emily replied, grinning. "We should've broken into her house and bugged it. I don't know if I can wait till tomorrow to talk to her and find out what happened."

"Now, Em," Garcia admonished her friend, "if the evening goes as we believe and sincerely hope it will, we wouldn't want to invade their – shall we say? – privacy."

Emily made a face. "You've got a point. I just hope our little plan doesn't backfire."

"How could it?" Garcia asked. "We _know_ JJ's got the hots for him, we _very strongly_ _suspect_ that Rossi's got the hots for her, and we are trained professionals. How could it backfire?"

"Well, let's see," Emily replied thoughtfully, "there are a couple of different ways it could go wrong. Let's say Rossi doesn't go to JJ's – he just decides not to for whatever reason or he chickens out. Let's say he does go, but knowing it's him, she pretends she's not at home or refuses to let him in or invites him in for a while but sends him on his way before anything can happen. I could go on." When Garcia shook her head to discourage more scenarios, Emily settled for saying, "If things don't go right, and they find out we've been conniving against them, they're going to be pissed. And rightfully so."

"Don't even think it," Garcia said as she raised her glass to her lips for another drink. "Just have faith that they'll pull their heads out of their asses long enough to see what they could have, and take this opportunity that we have seen fit to bestow upon them. What better night for a new beginning than New Year's Eve?"

~*~

Once JJ had disappeared somewhere upstairs, Rossi cleared a spot for himself on her couch and surveyed her living room. Her Christmas tree was real and decorated with small white lights and decorations old and new. On her walls hung photos of her family and friends throughout the years – there was even one of the team, he noticed, in which she had her arm around him and he was actually smiling – and letters of appreciation and plaques to recognize her service to local civic organizations and charities. On shelves were a variety of books – textbooks (criminal justice, management, mass media, interpersonal communication), classics (Plato, Shakespeare, Hawthorne, Twain, Woolf and everyone in between), fiction titles (serious and fluffy) – and a few soccer trophies. Just what he would've expected. Balance.

The bed she'd made on her oversized, overstuffed couch told him that she loved comfort. The blanket was a pink and white knitted afghan that looked like it had been with her for many years and put through the washer and dryer many times, and the pillow, which must have come from her bed, was large and fluffy, and covered in a satin pillowcase. The ice cream that was starting to melt and the _From Here to Eternity_ DVD said that she was preparing to lose herself in mindless yet very romantic entertainment. Again, just what he would've expected. Someone who was as dedicated to her work as she was and spent so much time thinking deserved to escape every now and then.

While Rossi was breaking the unspoken agreement that members of the team would _not_ profile each other, JJ was washing her face, happy to see that the mask left her skin pink and glowing – she'd have to remember to thank Pen for the recommendation – dabbing on lip gloss and trying to do something, anything, with her hair. What a turn her evening had taken. If someone had told her that Rossi would show up on her doorstep, a bottle of champagne in hand, on New Year's Eve, she would've laughed so hard she would've wet herself. It wasn't that she didn't want to spend time with him. She did. Meeting up for a coffee or a drink or a late supper or early breakfast with him just wasn't enough for her anymore, but she had no idea if it was for him.

Once she decided that a neater ponytail would do, her next stop was her bedroom to debate clothes. It was tempting to get dressed, but he _had_ said to leave the pj's on, and she _had_ planned on vegging until he had showed up and derailed her plans, so really, why should she change? She'd just go back downstairs before she could give the matter another thought and before he could profile her based on her living room, if he hadn't already. The thought of Rossi getting inside her head didn't freak her out as much as, say, the thought of Reid or Hotch profiling her did. Maybe he'd see she had a thing for him and she wouldn't have to come right out and tell him.

She cleared her throat as she reentered the living room and settled herself on the opposite end of the couch. "I owe you an apology for being so rude earlier. This was just unexpected." Lame, but it was a start, and she did feel the need to say she was sorry. "It wasn't my intention to give you the impression I wasn't happy to see you."

"It's okay," he assured her. "I thought about calling, but I decided I'd just surprise you."

"Mission accomplished."

As if he could read her mind, he said, "Honestly, Jennifer, I was at the office earlier, and Garcia and Prentiss said that you'd begged off on going out with them, and I got to thinking. You're alone ... I'm alone ... why don't we be alone together?"

That made her smile. "Very logical, Agent Rossi," she giggled.

"Hey," he said, returning her grin, "give me some credit. I didn't get my badge for nothing."

~*~

The initial awkwardness over, the two and a half hours leading up to midnight flew by. JJ and Rossi started out on her couch, then moved to the floor in front of the roaring fire he had started, a plate of hastily-prepared snacks between them, and then, when the snacks were gone and the plate no longer needed, moved very close to each other. At five minutes till midnight, Rossi suggested they uncork the champagne.

As they waited for the bubbles to go down, he deftly turned the conversation to resolutions – yes, the evening had gone well, very well, but he wouldn't let himself hope that she would let him kiss her, tradition and good luck be damned. "What's it gonna be for you this year, Jennifer?"

"I don't know," she sighed. "Lose five pounds? Give myself a makeover?"

"Honey," he said as he draped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close without even thinking, "you're perfect just the way you are. You don't need to go changing your appearance."

His words were too heavy, his gaze too intent; his presence simply too much; she had to look away. Of all the men she'd been with over the course of her dating life, no one had been so sincere, no one had ever told her she was perfect. It was "be more girly," "don't be so tough," "slow down," "why can't you have a normal job and work regular hours?", "let me help you," and on and on and on. She didn't know what to say, but a thank you did seem to be called for now. "Thanks, David. That means a lot to me. But what about you? Anything you want to change about yourself or do differently this year?"

"Actually, yes. I want to be more honest," he said simply yet seriously.

She gave him dubious glance. "More honest?"

"Yes – more honest."

"You're already the most honest, most realistic person I know."

He smiled briefly. "Okay, then, perhaps I should've said braver."

"Um, again, I think you might want to go back to the drawing board," JJ laughed. "Because I think you're already very brave."

With that, he took a deep breath and took her hands in his. "In some ways, maybe, but let me explain. I came here tonight to keep the resolution I made last year."

His words were making no sense whatsoever, but she sensed he was going somewhere with it. "Which was ...?"

"Which was to tell you that I love you." His chocolate brown eyes gazed into her deep blue ones.

"You what?" She shook her head, still not comprehending. "I think my hearing must be going. Because it sounded to me like you just said that you love me."

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ears and gazed into her eyes. "Nothing is wrong with your hearing, Jennifer." His voice was low and sent shivers up her spine as he whispered again, "I love you."

When she didn't reply, he went on. "I know this may be a shock, and I certainly don't want to put you in an awkward position, but I can't be dishonest to you or to myself any longer. And when Garcia and Prentiss said that you'd be happy to see me tonight, I thought it would be the perfect time to – "

She stopped him at the mention of her friends. "Wait. Back up. Garcia and Prentiss said what?"

"They told me that you were staying in tonight but I should drop by."

It all made sense now. Her own friends had set her up. Yes, she was happy to have Rossi with her for the evening, but she couldn't stop the anger and sense of betrayal that came over her. "Oh, I'm going to kill them! How could they do this to me?! I never should have told them!" She was on her feet, pacing, waving her arms wildly.

Rossi got up too. "Told them what?"

"How I feel about you." She was on a roll; he doubted she even realized what she was confessing to. "I hosted girls' night a few weeks ago, and we all got a little tipsy, and I got a little loose-lipped and told them that I-I – "

She didn't think she could go on, but he grasped her shoulders and made her face him. "You what?" he prompted gently.

There would never be a better time to admit what she'd wanted to tell him for so long. _Just do it. Now or never. _ "That-that I want you, dammit!"

His eyebrows shot up. "You do?"

"Yes," she mumbled. "I do."

"Well, then," he said slowly, as he dropped his hands to her hips and pulled her close, "what's the problem?"

"I didn't want you to find out like this. And I'm so mad at Pen and Emily ... they knew ... they sent you here ...."

"Don't be angry," he said as he lifted her chin with his finger. "We wouldn't be here, together and alone, on New Year's Eve if it wasn't for them. I'd be home, probably drinking a Scotch and watching a college Bowl game, and you'd be here, polishing off that ice cream and crying at _From Here to Eternity_. Am I right?" Again, he proved that he knew just what to say to make her smile.

"Yes," she admitted as she let him wrap his arms around her.

"And don't you think that you should call your friends tomorrow and thank them properly, not curse them up one side and down the other?"

"Yes." He could hear the quiet laughter in her voice.

"And don't you think it's time for a toast?"

By now she had her face buried in his neck. "Yes."

And with that, as the clock struck twelve, David Rossi told Jennifer Jareau again that loved her, and kissed her like she'd never been kissed before in her life. This was going to be a good year.


End file.
